


crescendo

by divorceadvocate



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Cunnilingus, Juno has a vagina, Not Beta Read, Other, also since theres no plot you can kinda place this at any point in the storyline which is cool, if theres typos and shit, im sorry but not sorry enough to fix them., please enjoy with entirely self indulgent piece, theres absolutely no plot, this is just peter eating juno out for 1400 words idk what else to tell u
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2021-02-13 04:03:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21488038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/divorceadvocate/pseuds/divorceadvocate
Summary: The sounds Juno made were embarrassing, to say the least. High and desperate, some were curse words, others were wordless moans and whimpers, but most were Peter's name, over and over. There was a reverence to his words, like he was praying to a higher power, like he was worshipping. If he could worship Peter, he would. He would deserve every amen, every hymn, every sacrament taken.
Relationships: Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel
Comments: 13
Kudos: 304





	crescendo

One of the many, many things that Juno loved about Peter Nureyev was his mouth. The way his lips would curl into that sly, fox-like smile with sharp teeth to match. The haughty laugh that he would fake for a heist and the genuine one that would bubble out from him on those rare occasions when they would get time alone together. The way it moved against Juno’s, impossibly soft and with this magical ability to make Juno forget everything for a few minutes. But, he had to say that he was a pretty big fan of Peter’s mouth right where it was at this moment, between Juno’s legs. 

Peter’s hands were another feature that Juno adored, and they were holding onto his quaking thighs, his thumb rubbing reassuring circles into his skin. 

“Fuck, Nureyev,” Juno huffed out, his back arching as Peter’s tongue flitted against his clit. He’d been at this for a while now, and with every second that passed, his body felt like it was growing hotter and hotter, and the tension that had been building in his core grew tighter and tighter. Juno was already wrecked, his body trembling, his chest heaving with every ragged breath he took in, his head thrown back so far that his neck ached with the effort. His hand alternated between grasping desperately at the sheets and knotting into Peter’s impossibly silky hair. 

Peter. Peter was doing such a good job that it was fucking infuriating. He would bring Juno right to the edge before pulling back to press innocent, wet kisses along the lines where his hips met his torso. And he would just smirk as Juno thrashed against the sheets, whining in that impossibly high voice that only Peter could rip out of him. He’d ask if everything was alright with that insufferable smirk and listen with a practiced facade of boredom as Juno begged him to keep going, to let him come, to do anything, God,  _ please. _ And Peter would press one last kiss to the skin right below his belly button and then dive right back in, and Juno would practically sob with relief at the feeling of his mouth against him, wrapping his legs around his head. 

He’d lost count of how many times he’d almost come only for Peter to deny him. It was driving him fucking crazy. 

Peter licked a broad stripe up his entrance, and Juno’s hips bucked forward on their own accord. “Ah-! Shit! Shit...” He squeezed his eyes shut as Peter continued his slow assault. 

“This should be considered torture,” he sighed, his voice just as shaky and unsteady as he felt. It felt so good, but if Juno didn’t get off soon-

Peter pulled off of him then, looking up at Juno with that same god awful smirk. “Oh, I didn’t realize I was hurting you, darling,” he purred, running a hand up and down Juno’s side, likely relishing in the way he twitched beneath his touch. “Should I stop? We can go to bed early-”

“No, no, no, fuck, no,  _ Peter, please, _ ” Juno cried out, his hips lifting off of the bed searching for more pleasure, more stimulation, his hand clawing at the back of Peter’s neck. “ _ Fuck, _ if you stop, I am going to fucking  _ die, _ I’m going to  _ die, _ and it’s going to be your fault, fuck, Peter, please, please,  _ please- _ ” 

Peter gladly continued and the moan that left Juno seemed to rattle the bedframe they laid upon. So far, he had alternated between going frustratingly slow to so fast that Juno saw spots and forgot who he was, but as he resumed this time, he kept a steady pace, one that continued in time with Juno’s rapid gasps and pants. 

Then he inserted a finger into Juno, curling it upwards.  _ Come hither.  _ It was too much. He whimpered as he felt himself fall further towards his orgasm. “Peter,” he whimpered. Peter answered him with another finger, fucking him gently at first before speeding up, hitting that spot inside of Juno each time. 

The sounds Juno made were embarrassing, to say the least. High and desperate, some were curse words, others were wordless moans and whimpers, but most were Peter's name, over and over. There was a reverence to his words, like he was praying to a higher power, like he was worshipping. If he could worship Peter, he would. He would deserve every amen, every hymn, every sacrament taken. 

Juno clamped his hand over his mouth in a weak attempt to muffle his noises, to pretend he at least had some self control over himself, to pretend that the insertion of a third finger didn’t drive him absolutely wild. 

He didn’t realize Peter had moved until he heard his own name from above him. “Juno...” He opened his eye to find Peter leaning over him, supporting himself on the hand that wasn’t still fucking Juno. And God, he was gorgeous. Eyes bright and wide with an adoration that made his heart twist, face flushed, mouth and chin covered in Juno’s slick, hair mussed and falling into his face. Times like these were the only ones where Juno saw Peter as Peter; messy and sloppy, raw and vulnerable, every emotion on his face a genuine one. “Juno,” he whispered again, his gaze tracing the contours of his face with a pure adoration that made his throat tighten. “Let me hear you.”

Juno might usually fight back, stubbornly holding that hand against his mouth, staring down Peter with a look that welcomed a challenge, a fight back. But in this moment, he would do just about anything for the man that was looking at him like he had hung up all the stars in the sky. So he obeyed, letting his hand fall back against the sheets next to Peter’s, who immediately entangled it in his own, squeezing it as he fucked him harder, faster.    
  
“Ah! Mm- Peter,  _ Peter, please, please, fuck, oh my God, Peter-”  _

Peter just stared at him through this, like he was trying to memorize the way Juno’s mouth hung open, his eye that tried to focus but couldn’t through the haze of pleasure, the crease between his knit brows, the rosy red that colored his cheeks. “You’re so beautiful,” Peter whispered, his voice full of awe. 

That was what pushed Juno over the edge, crying out even louder than before, his free hand wrapping around Peter to hold him closer, nails digging into his back, body arching and trembling. Juno would compare the feeling to being set on fire, but if all burns felt this good, then he’d never stop setting himself alight. 

Peter stroked him throughout as Juno sobbed wordlessly from how  _ good  _ it felt to finally have release. He kissed him along the line of that sharp jaw, mumbling praises into his ear about how good he was for him, how pretty he sounded, let it go, darling, it’s okay, I’m here. I’m here. 

Finally, Juno’s body collapsed against the mattress, every cell of his being thrumming with a bone deep satisfaction that only Peter could give him. Peter, who was still touching him. Juno didn’t have the energy to tell him that he was overstimulated, so instead he made a noise that was halfway between a grunt and a whimper. He seemed to understand, because he pulled his hand away, wiping it somewhere on the sheets and shifting his body so that he lay next to Juno.    
  
Almost immediately, he turned to wrap his arms around Peter, burying his face in his chest where he tried to catch his breath. Every inhale held the scent of that intoxicating cologne, the one that he’d never been able to place but now just smelled like home. 

It took him a few minutes to recover, focusing on his breathing and on the gentle stroking of Peter’s hand up and down on his back. Finally, he said, “You’re going to kill me.”   
  
He couldn’t see Peter’s face, but he could hear the smile in his voice. “I’ve seen you survive far worse circumstances, love,” he mumbled, pressing kisses to the top of Juno’s head. “Do you need water? Or a shower? I can get you some-”

Juno shook his head, burrowing himself further into the sheets, further into Peter. He  _ was _ very thirsty, and pretty sticky, but... 

  
“I just want to lay down here,” he said softly, tracing lazy patterns into Peter’s chest with his fingers. “With you. Is that okay?”   
  
“Of course.” 


End file.
